


Something Sweet (Like Sugar)

by checkerbee



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Childhood Friends, Dorks in Love, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Lifeline is a Ray of Sunshine, Octane is a Mess, Pre-Canon, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:40:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23337031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/checkerbee/pseuds/checkerbee
Summary: A story of how Octane and Lifeline got together and then fell apart, with a bit of hope at the end.
Relationships: Lifeline | Ajay Che & Octane | Octavio Silva, Lifeline | Ajay Che/Octane | Octavio Silva
Comments: 20
Kudos: 74





	Something Sweet (Like Sugar)

They meet at a party. 

While he plays drinking games, she's getting high in a corner, a pair of drumsticks tapping on the table while she sways to the music that's being pumped through the speakers. She's the image of carefree fun, bright pink hair, a purposefully messy halo around her head and he's fascinated, enraptured. 

Because he's trying. Trying to catch a buzz, trying to make the night go a little bit faster, be less boring. But she is trying to slow down, to live in the moments between heartbeats. He wonders what that's like, to want to bring time to a stand still for a little while. 

He's staring, maybe, because brown eyes blink open and catch his own, her gaze appraising him, skimming on green tipped hair and piercings and ripped clothing before she smiles, slow and bright. She throws up a peace sign and he's hooked. 

Her name is Ajay Che, he learns that night, staring up at the stars from the trampoline they're laying on after migrating out of the house. He's buzzed and she's coming into a high and talking is easy. About their parents and school and what they like to do on the weekends. When he says that he races on the tracks outside of town, she gets a gleam in her eyes and asks him to take her sometime. 

"Sounds like fun." She adds, using his legs as a drum for whatever beat is in her head. 

"Oh it is." He agrees hurriedly, excited even as the world spins when he sits up too fast. "I could let you go for a ride if you want, get some wind in your hair." 

"I'd like that." Her accent is thick, rolling on her tongue as she sits up to look at him. "Next weekend?" 

His heart skips, then beats double as a grin grows on his face. "Yeah, yeah, gimme a time and place to pick you up." 

She puts his number in her phone and texts him her address before plopping back into a lying position as he regales her with stories about the stunts he does, about the thrill of it all. She adds something every now and then, but mostly she just lets him talk and it's different than when his parents or classmates do it. Because she's listening instead of just letting him run his mouth until even he gets tired of his own voice. 

It's refreshing and he doesn't stop because he wants her to know everything, to feel the excitement running through his bones even now. He wants to do something, wants to take her on an adventure, but he settles for watching the stars reflect in her eyes like so many diamonds. 

…

Their first kiss is at the tracks some weeks later, on a dune that he'd wiped out on trying to do something stupid to impress her. He can't see her eyes through the shades she wears as she berates him for being reckless but her voice is more amused than anything and he laughs, wild and happy.

"You're insufferable." She groans, dropping down beside him into the sun baked sand and pushing her sunglasses into her hair. "You're gonna get hurt eventually and I don't know shit to help ya if ya do." 

"You'll think of something." He says, because she's brilliant and she can do whatever she sets her mind to. "Just become a doctor." 

She scoffs. "Not a nurse?" 

"I mean, if you wanna play nurse with me," He wiggles his eyebrows at her and it's so dumb, but her laugh is like music in the sunlight. "Dr Che sounds better though." 

The fingers she's combing through the sand pause, digging in until they get to the cooler sand underneath. "Yeah maybe.." 

Her voice is softer now, thoughtful and reserved and he knows that she's thinking about her parents. About the war that they're profiting from and all the people they've hurt to have the money to keep themselves and her in comfort. She hates it, he knows. Maybe even more so than he hates the thought of taking over his parents own company one day. 

"Hey, look at me." He says, ducking in to kiss her when she does, her lips soft and surprised against his own. There's an instant smile on her face when he pulls back though and he's thankful for it. "That's better." 

"Can't have me lookin' sad." She jokes, grabbing his denim vest to pull him back in for a kiss that's much deeper this time. The taste of her rushes to his head, caramel and sweet like the iced coffee she'd drank on the way out here. He wants to bring her closer. Wants to feel her against him, impossibly close until his senses are filled with her. But he settles on leaning into the touch on his chest, on the feeling of his hands on her hips, fingers tapping until she lets out a laugh against his lips. 

No, he really can't have her looking sad, he thinks. Doesn't want her to ever look at him and not have that twinkling light in her eyes that tells him that he makes her feel like smiling. Because she makes his heart race just as much as any stunt does, makes him feel like he's flying and falling too fast all at once. 

Her teeth catch on his lip ring playfully, bringing him out of his head. "You're thinking too much." 

Her sunglasses tumble into the sand as he flips her on top of him and takes a moment to just look at her. She's beautiful like this, kneeling over him with the sun at her back and an infectious smile on her face. He mirrors it, lets it grow to something wild and daring until she leans down and kisses him again. 

It might be hours or minutes that they're like this and it's the longest he's ever willingly been still but by the time they're done, his skin feels like it's on fire. Like he's been running and he doesn't wanna stop, not until she takes all the air from his lungs and leaves him gasping for more. 

He wants, wants more of her, all of her. But he can wait. Wait until she's ready, until it's the right time if there is one. 

He hates waiting. 

…

They're at her house the first time they do anything more than make out. It's summer break and he's so bored now that school isn't taking up most of his day, now that he has so much time to spend. So she invites him over to hang out, to play games and eat away the time until it's something more manageable. 

She dressed comfortably in comparison to his ever present dark jeans and collection of pins. Soft and bright while he's not and he likes the contrast, likes the sound she makes when she grinds against him on the couch. 

Her parents are out on one of their frequent business trips, a credit card left on the kitchen counter their only note as goodbye. He knows that it must eat at her, the lack of communication, but she doesn't talk about it. So he takes it off her mind, hands pulling the thoughts out of her head with touches that are impatient and greedy. He watches pupils go blown, like he's a drug in her system. Listens to her voice waver and her breaths get fast until she's pulling off her top with a frustrated sound. 

She flings it over the back of the couch somewhere but he doesn't pay it much mind, doesn't care because her chest is rising and falling in front of him and he wants, burns with it. She's the sun, he thinks as his lips find her neck, kisses and bites finding caramel skin. Down, down until her bra stops him and he's aching with impatience. 

"Te quiero." He says and he knows that she knows what it means but he doesn't care. Not now at least, not when her hands are impatiently stripping him out his clothes and the smell of her is heady in his nose, something sweet like sugar. 

"You too." She responds, fingers tangling in his hair as he undoes the drawstrings on her pajama pants. He doesn't take them off right away, impatient but waiting. For a stop, for any indication that she doesn't want this as badly as he does. But she gives none, fingers tugging at his hair as she pushes her hips up against his. "Don't keep me waitin' forever." 

Her voice is a frustrated sound, but it's also filled with the beginning of a laugh, a hint of adoration and god, he needs this girl. Needs her like the air she's stealing from his lungs as she captures his lips with her own. She's soft and impatient and needy and intoxicating, like a drug he can't get enough of. But instead of speeding everything up, she slows it down. Makes every moment last an eternity even as time flies by. 

Maybe they're going too fast, maybe they're rushing this, what they have. But he doesn't care, can't bring himself to care as she strips him out of his jeans and underwear, gets a hand around him. Her skin is dark against his, a nice contrast that he can't seem to pull his eyes away from. 

Her hands are soft, used to a life of comfort, and he pushes into her touch until she tightens her grip, drawing a moan from his throat. 

"Gimme," He licks his lips, catching on his tongue piercing as he tries to clear the fog that's creeping into his mind as she works him over with a hand that grows more confident as she goes. "Gimme a sec, cariño." 

She relents long enough for him to get her pants off, then her underwear before she's back on him, sliding against him as his fingers hook onto the strap that's keeping her bra closed. He gets it off after some fumbling, tossing it somewhere that's not in the way and presses his lips to her skin again. 

"Your boobs are amazing." He says dumbly and her body shakes with a laugh, then a moan as he gives them an experimental squeeze. He does it again, watches her face this time as his thumbs catch on her nipples and she melts, going almost pliant in his hands. But still, she grinds against him, legs framing his waist as she searches for just the right angle. He lets her, lets her chase her pleasure because damn does it feel good. 

"Thank ya," She hums, eyes catching his. "We can keep going, but I don't… I don't wanna go all the way. Not yet." 

"Sure, sure." Whatever you want, he thinks. "I'm good with this. More than good." 

Nodding to herself, she goes back to rocking her hips and he can feel how wet she is against him, the folds of her slick with arousal as she chases her pleasure. Occasionally there's a moan that she can't keep in that mixes with his, hands settling on her waist now as he leans forward to capture one of her nipples in his mouth. He flicks his tongue piercing against in, feels the way she writhes against him, hands finding his hair again, pulls him closer. He can feel her starting to tremble now, hears the way her breath stutters with more frequency. 

"Come on," He says against her chest because he wants to see her fall apart. 

"Impatient, aren't ya." She huffs, but he's been good, more patient than she probably expected and he doesn't know how to express to her that he's fine with going slow if it's for her. She must get it though, because she gasps out a thank you as she cums, shaking and trembling. She's even more wet now, if that's possible, and it feels amazing. 

There are pin-pricks dancing along his skin, impatience singing in his nerves as he waits for her to come down from her high. But when she does, lazy eyes blinking open at him, his breath catches in his throat. She takes him in hand again, strokes him quickly until he's biting back curses and shaking against her, hips bucking into her fist. He doesn't last long after her, cumming against her stomach as his mind goes blissfully blank and she sags against him. They're both slick with sweat, the air conditioning making gooseflesh break out on their skin, but neither of them cares. 

Wrapping his arms around her, he pulls her back when she starts to move. "A little longer?" 

"I gotta clean myself up." She chastises, but she settles down nonetheless, stays pressed to his chest for a little bit longer.

"If you let me take a shower first, I'll make you pancakes." He says into her hair some time later and she kisses a scar on his chest. 

"Deal." 

…

He's just finished stacking a pile of chocolate chip pancakes onto a plate when she shuffles into the kitchen with wet hair and a frown on her face and he can feel his heart sinking before she even opens her mouth. 

"That bad, huh?" He asks and she blinks at him. 

"Wha'?" 

"Nothing, don't worry about it." He slides a plate towards her and roots around for some peanut butter. 

"Top shelf." She says with a full mouth once he reaches the cabinet by the fridge and he makes a triumphant sound as he tosses the plastic jar into the air, catching it before it smacks onto the floor. "I have something to tell ya." 

"Bad news or good?" He asks, fishing a butter knife out of a drawer. 

"Both, neither. I don't know," She seems to steel herself and Octavio does the same, bracing for the impact of whatever her next words are. "I tested out of school." 

"Oh," Is what he says, then laughs. "That's a good thing though, why do you sound like it's the end of the world?" 

"Because I'll be at college next year, studying to be a doctor." She still seems to be bracing, for anger maybe, but he can't imagine why. "And we won't be able to spend as much time together." 

"That's fine with me." He says, then hurries on before she can take his words the wrong way. "I'm not gonna be mad that you're doing what's best for you. Plus I get to tell everyone that I have a hot college girlfriend." 

She snorts into her orange juice and he laughs, laughs at the relief that floods through him and the pride that he feels. "Besides, I'll visit you until you get sick of my face." 

"Or ya could move in with me." She offers, making a disgusted face as he slathers his pancakes in peanut butter before drowning them in syrup. "I'm gonna be getting an apartment closer to the college, so I can get out of here." 

Out of her parents house, out of this stuffy town. But not out of his life. His face breaks out into a smile and he jumps a bit, excited and ready to go already. "I'll pack my bags."

"Sit, eat." She commands. "I'm not moving in for another few weeks." 

"Can you blame me?" He asks and she smiles. 

"No, no I can't." 

…

None of their stuff fits on his motorcycle, so they end up renting a moving truck that they load up towards the end of summer break. They keep her bed because it's bigger and nicer than his, but there's no way her dresser is gonna fit all of his clothes, much less both of theirs. So they go shopping once they're done moving the stuff that they have and it's horribly domestic. 

He's having the time of his life. 

He uses the oversized cart to zoom around the furniture store, uncaring of the disapproving looks he gets while she looks at price tags and shipping options. 

"Stay still a bit?" She asks, dumping an armful of bedding into the basket before he's off again, shouting gleefully. It isn't until he crashes into a display that she snatches the cart away from him and makes him walk, but she still runs away from the mess with a laugh, forcing him to catch up. 

They don't get kicked out by some miracle and they have a bunch of stuff scheduled to be delivered at the end of the week. It's such an adult thing, something that should be boring beyond belief, but they go out for ice cream after and her lips taste like strawberry sundae when he kisses her. Then they're in their new home and she's pulling him into the bed that they haven't made yet. 

He can get used to this, he thinks. 

Especially when she pushes him down, down, down with a gleam in her eyes and he gets to drown himself between her legs, only coming up for air once she's cum a few times and is utterly exhausted. 

… 

If he's honest with himself, he expects it all to get boring after a while, but it doesn't. He's always excited to get back from school, to listen to her talk about her classes, both the bad and the good. His own are going okay, but his teachers are getting annoying, always talking about how they should be making plans for the future, how they'll be graduating this year. 

"Ya should though," She says after he complains one too many times and he frowns at her, wincing with exaggeration when she swats at his chest. 

"I'm gonna have the company." He reminds her and he hates the thought, hates the idea of being stuck behind some desk looking at paperwork all day. He doesn't want that responsibility, doesn't wanna be tied to his parents legacy until he's old and grey or hands it off to the grandkids that his parents want him to give them. 

"Ya could do something else though, anything ya want." 

She believes in him more than he does, but the words stick in his mind nonetheless, keeping him awake until she grumbles at him to stop moving so much and he wraps her up in his arms instead. He keeps thinking about it though, for days and weeks as her schedule gets more and more busy. Suddenly he has more time on his hands than he can deal with and she's tired more often than not.

So he goes back to the track, racing his old bike on the dunes to pass the time. He gets lost out here. Gets lost in the thrill of pushing his bike's limits, of the bruising on his legs and arms from the hard packed sand of the track when he pushes too far. 

She warns him not to hurt himself, but she doesn't tell him to stop and he knows that she'll patch him up whenever he inevitably gets hurt. And she does, hands sure of herself as she applies what she's learning in her classes, adding a few kisses against his skin as she goes. 

"I hope all your patients don't get this kind of treatment." He jokes when her mouth slips down below his waist and she bites at his thigh. "Ow!" 

"That didn't hurt." She huffs and then her mouth is full, lips wrapped around him and he loses the ability to think of an actual reply. She takes him apart like he's a familiar puzzle, a hand joining her mouth until he's muttering in spanish whenever he actually manages to say anything at all. 

She tells him later that she's on birth control and then he's spreading her open on his fingers, making her cum so that she's nice and relaxed when he finally gets to slip inside of her. She's warm like the sun, body wrapped around him so tight that it's hard to breath. 

She lets him set the pace, nails digging into the flesh of his shoulders as he fucks her with an impatience that's almost rough but no less loving for it. She's not bothered by it either, how fast he's going, but instead urges him to go faster, deeper. He takes her apart that night, makes her voice go loud and hoarse, until he wonders if the neighbors can hear what he does to her. 

He doesn't care if they do, doesn't care about anything but the heaven she brings him. If it wasn't already, he'd say sex is his new favorite thing, but it definitely sparks something in them. It's something wild, something rough that he loves and he finds new places to get her off, spends hours daydreaming about it when he should be focusing on his classes. 

She comes with him to the track on their anniversary and they have a picnic on one of the dunes after he takes her for a ride on his bike. She looks hot in his helmet, he thinks, so he buys her her own bike and riding gear after school a week later. She starts joining him after her classes and really, it shouldn't be a surprise at all when she eventually rides him on a blanket in the dunes, skin speckled with loose sand and glowing under the light of the sun.

…

It's toward the end of his senior year that his parents pull him aside to lecture him about his plans for college. They want him to major in business, want him to learn how to run things once he takes over and he listens to it up to a point, fully intending to let it all fade out of his head as soon as the conversation is over. 

"Your mother and I have also been thinking and we feel it would be for the best if you stop seeing the girl." 

The girl. 

"You're fucking joking." He says, disbelieving and the anger that comes is quick, burning hot white. 

"Mijo!" His mother snaps and he scoffs. 

"I'm sorry man, but you guys are touched if you think I'm dumping Ajay just because you want me to."

"It's not a good image." His father continues, voice rising to overshadow his and he jumps up from his seat at the table. 

"She's studying to be a doctor. Which you would know if you ever asked me about her. Or talked to me in the first place." 

His mother is pristine in the face of his anger but his father isn't. He's excitable like Octavio, with little patience for being talked back to. "Her parents are war profiteers. Having our heir flirting with that kind of-" 

"What?" 

"Amor," His mom says softly, laying her hand on his arm, but he shrugs it off. 

"No, that kind of what?" He asks his father, even though he has a feeling that he knows what he was going to say. He wants to hear it though, needs a place to direct the pent up energy that's quickly turned to anger inside of him.

"It's not good for the company." His mother says. 

"That kind of trash." His father finishes and Octavio's knuckles sing when he punches him in the face. 

"Fuck your company." He spits, snatching his keys from the table by the door and slamming it on the way out. 

… 

Ajay finds him at a party that night and drags him out while he berates whoever called her, words slurred and dumb. Her fingers are tight on the steering wheel of her car, anger radiating off of her until she has to pull over to let him puke out the passenger side down. 

"Ya coulda just come to me. Or called so that I knew you were alright" She says once he's done and he makes a tired noise in response. He doesn't need a lecture right now, tells her so and she goes quiet, eyes dark in the passing streetlights. She drags him into the apartment and dumps him on the couch, tells him to sleep there and slams the door to their room closed before he can respond. 

He flips it off and curls in on himself, the world spinning too much for him to really care about what it all means. He'll deal with it in the morning, make it up to her somehow. For now though, he just floats, watching the ceiling sway until he passes out. 

There's a note and painkillers on the coffee table when he wakes up, eyesight blurring and head pounding. She's gone to her classes and has a study group after, so she won't be home until late. She calls him an asshole but there's a heart signing the note, so he figures she's not too mad. 

Still, he stops by her favorite restaurant once he stops feeling like shit and buys her dinner, presenting it proudly once she's home. 

"Do ya wanna talk about it?" She asks while they eat and Octavio twirls his chopsticks in his noodles. 

"I imagine we'll be getting a letter about me being disowned from my parents' secretary soon." Is all he says and she reaches out, squeezing his hand before going back to her food. 

The thing is, he doesn't wanna talk about it, not really, because he doesn't wanna think about it. He may not see eye to eye with them all that often, but they're still his parents and he doesn't exactly wanna lose them. So, when he does get the letter, he reads it and then buries all the hurt he feels in her skin that night, hands a little more rough than they normally are and then holds her in apology after. She lets him, comforts him and doesn't say anything about the tears that hit her skin before they fall asleep, just carries him through it. 

He's in his last week of school when he graduates and he pretends he doesn't hurt when Ajay is the only one supporting him in the crowd, having taken time off of her own schooling for a day. They go out to the dunes and race around the track until he feels like he's gonna crawl of his skin and not even fucking her in the sand makes the ache go away. It eases a bit, only to be replaced by guilt when he sees the way the grains have rubbed the skin of her back raw. 

She tells him to be gentler next time, but a bit of that spark in her eyes has faded and he hates himself a little for it. So he apologizes while he rubs antibiotic into her skin and promises never again.

Once school is out, he pours all his energy into stunt-work and starts posting it online for whoever wants him to watch and doesn't hide who he is. A small part of him hopes that his parents see but he buries that deep, hides it as he gets more and more reckless. Ajay is busy with finals, but she patches him up when she's home and tells him to be more careful. 

Except he doesn't, because his dumb videos are gaining traction and he likes the attention it brings. So he does crazy shit and gets hurt and comes to her for comfort. After a while, the twinkle in her eyes fades completely and he pretends that it doesn't, pretends that he's not hurting her emotionally just as much as he hurts himself physically. 

"What are you hoping to find?" She asks one day after she relocates his arm and he shrugs the one that's not numb with pain. 

"Attention, excitement." He says honestly.

"You're gonna get more hurt than I can fix one day." She tells him and she's worried that he's going to get himself killed, that she'll lose him. So he's careful for a bit, but the attention fades and he goes right back to his old ways. They fight about it and they fuck out the anger afterwards, until both of them are exhausted. She gives as good as she gets, fingers harsh in his hair when he pins her against a wall. It's something more than wild, something hurtful, but they don't talk about it. 

"I got an internship with the Frontier Corps." She tells him one day and he's happy for her, spinning her around their small kitchen and kissing her as she laughs. He's proud of her and he shows her in the way he takes her apart on the counter, oh so gentle until she's begging for release. He holds her tight that night, buries his face in her neck and thanks the world for bringing her into his life. 

They're better for a few weeks, softer and he revels in it, in the return to how they used to be. 

It makes it that much more painful when he learns that he can't go with her, that they won't be moving to a new apartment together. He's angry that she didn't tell him, that she didn't warn him that his time with her is fading fast. 

"You're leaving me!" He snaps at her when she tries to comfort him and her hands ball into fists, her whole frame tight with anger. 

"Maybe if ya weren't so fucking reckless all the time, I would have made arrangements." She yells back and it's like being plunged into cold water, the betrayal he feels. "Maybe if I felt like I wasn't going to lose ya every time ya did something stupid, I'd take ya with me. But I can't," Her voice breaks, eyes shining with tears. "I can't be there for it. I don't wanna be the one crying at your funeral because ya won't just listen to me for once." 

He gets it, understands what she's saying but it doesn't stop him from leaving her to her tears. He goes and gets drunk at the track, rages into the sand until a piece of broken bottle cuts the meat of his hand open. 

When he gets home from the hospital, her stuff is gone and he tears apart the apartment until his stitches tear, blood dripping into the carpet. He doesn't know where she goes before the start of her internship, tells himself that he doesn't care, but he does. 

His stunts get even more suicidal and his infamy grows, until people recognize him as more than just the heir of a pharmaceutical company. People buy him drinks at the bars he visits to celebrate and girls flirt and he pretends that the ones he brings home at night don't remind him of Ajay in some way. He misses her every day though, misses the way her smile makes his heart race and the way her hands make his skin tingle. So he finds it in other places and keeps an eye on news of the Frontier Corps to make sure that she stays safe. 

…

When he beats the gauntlet record for one of his videos, he howls with glee, screams with the crowd that watches him and pretends that his legs aren't a mangled mess that turns his stomach. Eleven point seven seconds, he reads after he wakes up in the hospital and it means something underneath all the drugs in his system that keep him from feeling the pain he's in. 

He passes out quickly, numb enough to not notice the voice arguing with his doctors outside of his room.

The next time he wakes up, he's shaking so badly his teeth clack together. Fever, he thinks, drifting in and out until a hand grabs his own and squeezes tight.

Her hands are rougher now, used to work but to him they're more comforting than the pillows under his head. He holds onto her, scared that she's just a dream and says he's sorry when she sniffles back tears. 

"You're so dumb." She says and her laugh is wet, tired. "You're so fucking dumb." 

He grins at her, hopes it translates and thinks that she's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. 

Eventually he's lucid enough to listen to his doctors when they tell him about his legs, tell him that he didn't lose them by some miracle. It should be a good thing, should be enough for him but they say it'll take months before he can walk again, maybe years and he knows he won't wait that long. 

So he begs Ajay to pull some strings for him instead and at first she resists, leaving the room when he becomes too much for her to handle in one sitting. 

"Please, mi amor." He says and something in her seems to shatter. She brings his new legs a few days later before leaving again. She doesn't come back, not after a day or a week, not when he takes his first wobbling steps in what feels like forever. He recovers quickly, pours all of his boredom into getting better so he can leave the sterile hospital. He goes back to his apartment, back to his work, until they announce the games. 

He's shocked to see her announced as one of the competitors, nauseous at the thought that she could die in the arena. She's doing it for money to donate to the Frontier Corps and it's such a selfless idea that he can't help but smile through the worry that feels like it's eating him. Despite it all, she's still the girl that wants to make up for the wrongs of her parents, to make a difference in the world. 

She makes it through her first game, beaming beside Bloodhound and Bangalore, leaning on a healing drone with a peace sign thrown up and he cheers so loud that it hurts his throat. Because she's strong and she's alive, beautiful in the sunlight like she always was when they were together. They call her Lifeline and her fame grows as he gets used to his new legs, pushing himself because he wants to be there beside her one day. 

Eventually, he makes it. He's announced with the next season of the games and told how it all works but he doesn't really listen because he's looking at her, enraptured. He knows that she can feel his eyes on her because she throws a peace sign his way and he's in love all over again. 

So, it shouldn't come as a surprise when he takes a bullet for her during their first game. The sun is a halo around her head when she patches him up, lecturing him about being reckless like always. 

But the twinkle is back in her eyes when she looks at him and his heart aches. 

She is bright like the sun and he knows that he'll chase that light to the ends of the Earth if she'll let him. 

He'll settle for the arena though. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I feel like I don't know how to write either Octane or Lifeline, but I wrote this in a day and I love them so much. 
> 
> Either way, I hope you enjoyed this. Kudos and Comments appreciated! <3


End file.
